


Reunion

by AccioBeatles



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-28
Updated: 2015-02-28
Packaged: 2018-03-15 14:02:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3449810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AccioBeatles/pseuds/AccioBeatles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which two old friends meet again. Rest in peace, Leonard Nimoy, 1931 to 2015.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reunion

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't sure whether to post this or not. (Honestly, it's very possible that I'll end up deleting it in the morning when I'm a bit less sleep-deprived! We'll see.) I've been dithering for a while, because it's a pretty personal piece of writing, and I know it's not particularly well written, the concept's very loose, the ending's not very satisfying and I don't think everyone's completely in character... But I've been crying on and off for the last five hours, and it's the middle of the night here, and it helped me to write this (I was struggling to take everything in, and writing helped a little to make it feel more real), so I hope someone else might appreciate it too. To be honest, I don't think I even intended to write anything, but it sort of happened, and it turned out to be quite cathartic.
> 
> Also, I know this is very much an AU, and I would normally want to develop the setting and the circumstances a lot more, but I just didn’t have the energy to put much thought into the background for this story. It seemed almost disrespectful to build up a fictional scenario, if that makes sense? It feels like it’s too much based around reality (or at least, inspired by reality) for a developed storyline to feel right.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy the story.
> 
> Rest in peace, Leonard Nimoy. You were so loved by so many, and I’m so grateful for everything you gave us. May your memory live long and prosper.

As Spock closed his eyes for the last time, he knew the end was inevitable. He could feel his _katra_ beginning to drift, his soul tugged from his body by the gentle fingers of an irresistible force.

_No_ , he thought, _force was not the right word_.

It was more of a pull – a temptation, even – that lured his _katra_ away from his body until the fluttering sensation in his chest and the tingling of his nerves had faded and vanished completely. It was not numbness. To be numb, his body would have to be physically present, and it was not. But he certainly could not feel, except, perhaps, for the vaguest, most nebulous, sensation of floating.

He did not know how long he was floating. It could just as easily have been seconds as it could have been years. Perhaps his perfectly accurate Vulcan sense of time had deserted him along with his body – or perhaps time simply wasn’t a concept any more. But gradually, Spock felt himself becoming more grounded; either his consciousness was adapting, or a new world was forming around him. His limbs began to reform (although all his movement felt muffled, as though it was through water) and his _katra_ seemed to become more alert.

Spock blinked his new, liquid eyes, staring through the rippling fog that now swirled around him. A solid presence seemed to form beneath his feet, the fog thinning into an ethereal mist, and Spock found himself standing on solid ground. He took a tentative step. His body still felt shimmery, unreal, but at least it was something to ground him, to pull his consciousness together.

Spock blinked, and when he looked back up, a figure was stepping through the mist. He lurched forwards; if he had been on normal ground, his Vulcan grace would certainly have deserted him. The shadowy presence in front of him moved closer, and began to take on a more solid form.

A very familiar form.

“Doctor.” Spock’s voice was soft, the words spoken more as a thought than an actual sound.

McCoy’s face split into a smile, his eyebrow arching. “Spock.”

And then the distance between them had been closed, and Spock felt McCoy’s arms squeeze his body, more solid, more real, than anything else had been so far. The embrace was over almost before it had begun, but – although Spock would not have admitted it – it was somehow comforting.

Spock’s dark eyes swept over McCoy, taking in every detail that he knew so well, that he had never expected to see again. The wrinkles in the corners of McCoy’s mouth, the sparkle in the blue eyes, the thin lips twitching again (possibly without their owner’s knowledge) into a smile.

“Doctor…” Spock drifted into silence, finding himself suddenly without words. “Doctor, I-”

“I know.” McCoy’s voice was gruff.

For a second, the two men stood in silence, Spock’s eyes locked onto McCoy’s, as though the doctor might pop out of existence again if he dared to blink. McCoy reached forwards, gripping Spock’s shoulder. The flood of emotions that surged through the point of contact were so inherently _McCoy_ that Spock could not suppress a sudden intake of breath, could not keep himself from leaning almost imperceptibly into the touch.

“I have missed you-” The words tumbled unbidden out of Spock’s mouth – he thought perhaps they were harder to control without the barrier of a physical body, “-my old friend.”

McCoy’s grin widened. “I knew you had some human emotions tucked away in that Vulcan brain of yours!”

The needling was so familiar that it took all of Spock’s willpower not to slip back into their usual pattern of bickering. There would be time for that later.

McCoy continued, beginning to propel Spock forwards with the gentle hand on his shoulder. “I have a lot to show you.”

There would be all the time in the world.


End file.
